


en-dessous de la lune qui chante

by clarewithnoi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Black Brothers Reunion, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Drowning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Sad, emotional catharsis, i love regulus, short fic, the black brothers, this admittedly made me cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29638044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarewithnoi/pseuds/clarewithnoi
Summary: When his head goes underwater, Regulus thinks of the first time he ever saw his brother disobey their parents. He was four, and he’d broken a vase, and his parents wanted Sirius to be the one to stripe the lashes onto his skin.  Sirius wouldn’t do it.Five-year-old Sirius Black puffed out his chest and held closed fists to his hips. From behind him, Regulus thought the shape he made in those ill-fitting Black Family robes looked an awful lot like the big, ornate shields on the suits of armor downstairs. He looked like a hero of legend, like a mythic god from the old storybooks Mother charmed to read themselves aloud at bedtime.“I won’t hurt Reggie,” he proclaimed, “IloveReggie.”--the brothers Black reunite beyond the veil.
Relationships: Regulus Black & Sirius Black
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	en-dessous de la lune qui chante

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry for this
> 
> posted from Tumblr per request, my first non-Jily work on AO3! | title is a lyric from the song “Je Te Laisserai Des Mots” by Patrick Watson

Regulus feels the burning in his veins like his blood has been replaced with cursed fire. He tries to blink away the pain, to dig his nails into his arm like he used to when Father raised his belt, but nothing works. He needs water. He needs _water_.

There’s a screaming at the back of his mind, but he can’t make out the words, because he’s on fire from the inside out, and there’s water just a few meters away, but the pain won’t let him walk so he has to crawl the distance. _Water,_ he thinks, _please, please, water._

The _inferi_ are silent.

They approach in eery quiet until, at the last moment, they don’t. They walk the last few steps with screams. 

When his head goes underwater, Regulus thinks of the first time he ever saw his brother disobey their parents. He was four, and he’d broken a vase, and his parents wanted Sirius to be the one to stripe the lashes onto his skin. Sirius wouldn’t do it.

Five-year-old Sirius Black puffed out his chest and held closed fists to his hips. From behind him, Regulus thought the shape he made in those ill-fitting Black Family robes looked an awful lot like the big, ornate shields on the suits of armor downstairs. He looked like a hero of legend, like a mythic god from the old storybooks Mother charmed to read themselves aloud at bedtime.

“I won’t hurt Reggie,” he proclaimed, “I _love_ Reggie.”

_I love you too,_ he wanted to say, but he knew Mother and Father would beat him for saying so, just like they were going to beat Sirius for it.

_I love you too,_ he wants to say now, as the strength leaves his arms, and the last bits of light sputter out of his vision. He knows it’s partially because of the volume of water filling his lungs—he can feel it, which is something he didn’t know would happen—but he hopes that one day, Sirius will know he died with his own chest puffed in defiance.

The darkness closes, and then he knows nothing at all.

* * *

Sirius crosses the Veil after what only seems like minutes—or maybe it’s years, maybe decades. Time is a ribbon in death. It can stretch out long enough to cover the earth, but it can also loop over itself and twist in circles, around people and moments and things. His hair is long still, and he has a patchwork of facial hair, so maybe it’s been years. But he’s too young. Regulus hoped that he’d walk through the Veil an old man, one with smile lines and creases in his forehead.

There are people gathered for Sirius when he crosses. It’s always been that way for him. When he stepped out of Grimmauld Place all those years ago, he barely spent any time on the cobblestone road at its front, instead apparating away after barely a breath of outside air. Regulus had watched him from the window then, and he envied his brother to have people waiting for him at his destination.

The Veil is no different for Sirius. The Veil is not a void, but a reunion. People are scattered everywhere to greet him. Light trickles everywhere in his wake, and the Veil is warmer, like he’s been able to place a heating charm on a world without magic. Regulus desperately wants to ask someone if this is normal—he sees the Potters in front of him, and some of Sirius’s Gryffindor friends from school, and none of them seem surprised. Embarrassed, Regulus stays silent, because he’d clearly done something wrong if he was the only one who felt the chill.

Sirius walks toward Regulus when he arrives, and if it were even possible, Regulus thinks he might be afraid. He doesn’t know what Sirius knows. It’s possible his older brother didn’t even know he’s dead. If he does, he probably thinks it was an ignoble death.

As he approaches, Regulus tries to remember what it feels like to try and puff out his chest, to make his body a shield the way Sirius had when they were children. His limbs are wisps of energy and his chest is but a vessel for a non-beating heart. Nothing is solid after you cross the Veil. But he attempts it still, tries to recall the feeling of his fists at his sides, the soft pressure of knuckles on hipbone.

If his brother is going to curse him for the life he lived, he’ll listen, and he’ll take it, and he’ll hope that he can get the words out to explain himself before Sirius leaves him for his friends. He’d never been able to say the words in life. Sirius is in front of him now. Regulus doesn’t know where to look.

“Hi, Reggie,” he hears.

The strange feeling of a hand on his cheek pushes the first noise out of Regulus since his soul arrived here, something strangled and inarticulate. He didn’t know it was possible to touch other people in death. It startles him to realize there’s been no one yet to touch.

The sensation of a thumb rubbing softly under Regulus’s eye scares him into looking at his brother. Caresses are not normal for the Black family. He isn’t sure anyone’s ever touched him with this much tenderness, and even without living skin, it’s overwhelming. He’s worried it might be a trick.

“I know what you did at the end,” Sirius says softly, and Regulus stills. “I saw it when I crossed.”

“You did?” His own voice doesn’t ring around his head so much anymore, just moves from chest to lips. It sounds strange to him. He can’t remember what it sounded like on earth.

“I did,” Sirius replies. “Everything dark leaves you in death, and you see so many things. I feel like I know everything at once. Don’t you?”

Regulus feels like he knows nothing. He’s felt this way since getting here. If everything dark leaves you like Sirius says, he’s surprised there’s anything left of him at all. Maybe that’s why he feels like a slate wiped clean.

“I think so,” he hears himself saying. Maybe it’s true. Truth is a ribbon too, tied up in knots and bows.

Sirius’s hand moves to brush through his hair, and it’s too much sensation at once, and Regulus wants to cry but isn’t sure he can.

“I’m so sorry, Sirius,” he chokes, “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t…I wasn’t good—”

Sirius just smiles. “You’re alright, Reggie. You did fine.”

The hand in his hair drops before grabbing his own, and it’s magic and energy and life even where there’s supposed to be none.

“Come on,” Sirius grins, “there’s some people I want you to meet.”

He turns around to pull Regulus forward, and the image of him flickers. He’s five again, which means Regulus must be four. He feels four, which is a comfort, because he doesn’t need to know anything at four. The world is simple. Sirius is his hero.

Their hands are still connected, and Regulus squeezes, because he can do that now, like he’s been gifted feeling. Sirius squeezes back as he tugs him along. Regulus will follow him anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> my two loves. I miss them.
> 
> follow me on Tumblr, @clare-with-no-i if you want to say hi <3
> 
> hope you enjoyed :) tell me what you think!


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